


Amber Stars

by solarbishop



Series: Sleep Habits [5]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Mutual Pining, Size Difference, mentions of cuddling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-04
Updated: 2017-02-04
Packaged: 2018-09-22 00:56:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9574799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/solarbishop/pseuds/solarbishop
Summary: Before a campfire, Noctis feels how tender Gladio's touch can be.





	

**Author's Note:**

> that slowburn gladio/noctis keeps me going
> 
> thank you for the support/comments/kudos! it's really appreciated! uvu
> 
> i hope to capture what they are feeling through body language, and I hope it comes across that way! thank you for taking the time to read Amber Stars, please enjoy!

Noctis flinches when Prompto claps his back and announces to the party, “Night guys, I’m boarding the dream train! Noct, you comin’?”

The prince spares a glance toward his Shield, who is sitting about a foot to his right. As the campfire licks the air with its embers and sends its smoke into the sky, the fire has also entranced him. Gladio is expressionless, but not serious. He is relaxed, but not entirely approachable, either. Noctis sips the hot chocolate in his warm mug and hums.

“Nah.” He shrugs sheepishly, enjoying how the mug’s pleasant warmth seeps into his hands. If he overthinks it, the warmth is reminiscent of the nightly heat of Gladio’s body pressed against his back. So, he tries not to overthink it.

Beneath Noctis’s notice, Prompto’s eyes dart between his best friend and that giant of a man before smiling cheekily to himself. “If you say so, dude,” he sighs dramatically as he disappears into the tent. 

“Try not to stay up too late, Noctis. We have a full day tomorrow, and our supplies are running low.” Ignis pitches into the conversation as he finishes packing everything for tomorrow’s preparations. “It is already so difficult to pry you from your pillow in the early mornings.”

“Thanks for the hot chocolate.”

Gladio snorts beside him.

Ignis sighs. “Do not deflect from the conversation, it is impolite.”

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine.” Noctis waves off his advisor. “I’ll go to bed soon enough.”

Ignis clicks his tongue before he relents and retires into the tent.

Noctis sips his hot chocolate again, sighing from the relief of persuading Ignis to get off his back for once. The prince shifts forward in his seat to stare at the fire, but every once in awhile he glances at Gladio, strangely impassive as ever. It is almost as if something is wrong, but if something _was_ wrong, then Noctis would surely hear about it. For the time being, Noctis listens to the crackles and pops of the firewood burning to ashes. 

Several quiet minutes pass where both men are content with the silence. However, Gladio clears his throat. “So,” he huffs. “Does it bother you?”

“Huh?” Nothing Gladio does ever really bothers him.

“You know,” he waves a hand in the air lazily. Their eyes meet, and Noctis finds himself appreciating how Gladio’s amber eyes seem hot and molten. “What happens at night.”

Honestly, he did not expect nor ever thought that Gladio would talk so openly about his peculiar sleeping habit. But he supposes that he should have expected it because Gladio never bottles anything for too long. “Um,” he murmurs intelligently, staring at the mug in his hands. Noctis could feel his eyes burning on his body, but words seem to momentarily fail him.

“Sorry.” Gladio deflates. 

Noctis nearly spills his hot chocolate on himself as he bolts upright in his chair. “No! Hey, don’t apologize! No, I meant to say that I . . . I don’t mind it.”

“Oh?” Noctis sees the gentle interest appear in the depths of his eyes.

“Yeah.” Noctis nods, and he looks aside. His mouth continues to form words that escape Noctis before he could even do anything about it. “Yeah, it’s kind of—kind of nice, actually. It’s safe.”

The prince could not bring himself to look at whatever expression he is making, but he hears the man rise from his chair. When Gladio stands directly before him, the gesture forces Noctis to gaze upwards, beyond the muscular expanse of his chest and to his eyes that remind Noctis of burning, amber starlight. He forgets to breathe as a large hand reaches and rests against his cheek, almost like a feather caressing skin. His fingers are touching his neck in tender movements that send a pleasant tingle down his spine, but when Gladio’s thumb brushes aside a stray lock of hair, Noctis feels a natural heat rise to his face.

“Your sunburn is gone,” he murmurs, his eyes glazing over.

“Y-Yeah.” 

Gladio removes his hand, gone as soon as it touched him, and Noctis sorely wishes for his hand to return. But his Shield speaks, voice low and gravelly, “It’s time to sleep.”

Gladio extinguishes the campfire, and, consumed, Noctis could do nothing more but abandon his mug of hot chocolate on the ground. After the fire dies, he follows Gladio into the tent where they would sleep together.


End file.
